The Lady and her Lover
by MorganLeFay33
Summary: It is revealed that Lady Grantham has been having an affair with her lady's maid - the biggest scandal Downton has ever seen. Naturally, everyone at Downton has their own opinion on the matter. AU set in Season 3.
1. Chapter 1

_I've been writing this one for a while now, but I only just got back into it. Hope you like it! It's meant to be set sometime near the end of Season 3. _

**The Lady and her Lover: Chapter 1**

Mrs. Hughes was the first to notice. Sarah O'Brien was happy. It hadn't happened overnight and no one else could see it yet, but wasn't that why Mrs. Hughes was so good at her job in the first place? She always noticed things first.

Happiness embodied in Miss O'Brien was anything but hearty laughs, gigantic smiles, and chattering socializing. The first thing she'd noticed was Miss O'Brien's complacence in her interactions with the staff. She certainly hadn't made any friends over the past few months, but there were no more biting comments or power clashes- just peace.

Then, there were the smiles. Miss O'Brien smiled nearly every day now. Her little grins were imperceptible to all others around her, but Mrs. Hughes noticed it when O'Brien didn't think anyone was watching. There it was - a tiny upturned corner of her mouth, as she appeared to be concentrating on mending a blouse or sipping soup from her spoon. Her lowered eyes would become clouded for a moment, as if she were fondly recalling a distant memory. And then, just like that, the little smile was gone.

What made Mrs. Hughes sure of it was the singing. It was not actual singing, but a low hum that rarely included muffled words. She heard it on the stairs, in the hallway, echoing from Miss O'Brien's bedroom. She only sang when she thought no one was listening, but Mrs. Hughes was always listening.

* * *

Mrs. Hughes had been the first to notice, but Mrs. Patmore was the first to realize why.

"Have you noticed," Mrs. Hughes asked over tea one night, "that Miss O'Brien has been in good spirits lately?"

Mrs. Patmore paused to think about it. "You're right! I haven't heard a peep out of her in months."

"I wonder why…" Mrs. Hughes pondered.

"What if she's got a fancy man?"

They burst into laughter until Mrs. Hughes could manage to say, "I wonder who the _un_lucky fellow might be."

* * *

Mrs. Hughes had been the first to notice, and Mrs. Patmore had been the first to realize why, but Thomas was the first to interrogate her.

He sat across from her at the table, stretching his arms and yawning, "I'm off to bed."

"Me too. I'm tired."

He smirked at her and replied playfully, "I'll bet you are, with all the running around you've been doing."

"I beg your pardon?" She asked sternly.

"Word on the street is that you've got yourself a boyfriend. Been sneaking around, have you? Are we going to have another Ethel on our hands now?"

Daisy and Ivy had been sitting round the table too, and they snickered until silenced by a malevolent glare from O'Brien.

"You'll keep your mouth shut if you've got any self preservation left," she spat. "I'm sure everyone here would be very eager to hear about all _your _sneaking around."

Thomas' face went ashen and he excused himself from the table, leaving the girls to watch uncomfortably as the color mysteriously rose in O'Brien's cheeks.

* * *

Mrs. Hughes had been the first to notice, Mrs. Patmore had been the first to realize why, and Thomas had been the first to interrogate her, but it was Daisy who found them.

She'd been told that Lady Grantham was out for the afternoon, so she could easily go upstairs to tend to the fireplace. She had only opened the door halfway when she froze in confusion, unable to comprehend what she was seeing.

She didn't recognize the lady's maid at first, lying on her back, hands gripping the sheets and long hair spilling around her naked body. Daisy was shocked to see her writhing in ecstasy as she let out throaty giggles and moans, arching her back until Daisy could not look away from her large, bare breasts. The moving mass beneath the sheets covering the woman's waist suddenly began to change shape, and Daisy watched in disbelief as another woman emerged on top of her. They shuddered and sighed and kissed, staring deeply into one another's eyes. Daisy did not know how long she watched them there, their flushed skin partially hidden by a curtain of entangled dark hair. They hadn't noticed her, for they were too focused on one another.

It was not until they changed positions that Daisy recognized them. Miss O'Brien sat up quickly, surprising the countess as she gripped her bottom and roughly pulled her into her lap. Lady Grantham squealed in laughter, and they intensified their kiss as Miss O'Brien slowly slid one hand down to where their lower bodies met. The countess groaned wantonly. Daisy couldn't help it. She gasped.

They both turned toward her immediately, and before Daisy could even look into their eyes, she had already started to run. She ran all the way downstairs, never stopping once to look back.


	2. Chapter 2

_Corah shippers, don't worry. We'll get to see more of them in later chapters. For now, everyone else gets their say on it!_

**Chapter 2**

Charles Carson could not sleep. He was devastated. This was surely a nightmare, and he waited hour by hour for it to end. The morning never came. This was real, and it was here to stay. He sat on his bed, hanging his head and twiddling his thumbs. They would be leaving, and there was nothing he could do to keep Downton from crumbling.

He did not know what was worse –Lady Mary's quiet tears when she learned the news, the way his Lordship had started to quake violently, or the wickedly defiant blaze in Miss O'Brien's eyes as she stood there in his office with her Ladyship, holding her hand tightly and proclaiming that they would be leaving for London in the morning. This was over his head and out of his control. He could not sack her. He could not even chastise her. How was he to uphold the honor of a household that had no honor? He had thought so highly of her Ladyship, but to know now that this sinful being had been lurking inside of her felt like a second loss of innocence for him. His heart ached for his Lordship, foreseeing the disgrace and grief that the affair would bring upon Downton.

Most of all, he hated himself for the tiny bit of understanding he felt. It was small, but it was there, for there were moments when he saw the humanity in them. If he allowed himself to imagine –however briefly - being in the position of Miss O'Brien or Lady Grantham, he understood. For he would run off with Elsie Hughes if she asked him to, leaving everything of importance behind for the woman he loved. He shook his head quickly, trying to rid himself of such revolting thoughts.

* * *

Elsie Hughes could not sleep. She sighed heavily as she turned over in her bed, feeling the familiar dull ache of her sore hip. Today had been a hard day, with so many poor souls left hurting. She wanted to be angry about it, but she couldn't find it in herself. In the quiet safety of her own thoughts, all she could do was feel a tinge of jealousy. Who had initiated it, she wondered? Who had reached out to stroke the first cheek, leaned in for the first kiss, uttered the first confession of love? Miss O'Brien was a difficult woman, but Elsie was both envious and admiring of her courage. If Miss O'Brien and Lady Grantham could go up against every rule and institution, why couldn't Elsie simply admit her feelings to the man across the hall? Charles Carson had been so troubled by it all. She wished he wouldn't be, wished he'd open his eyes and see his own untarnished life in front of him- a life so full of untold possibility.

* * *

Beryl Patmore could not sleep. She felt guilty for her lack of concern with it. All in all, it was hilarious and a good topic for gossip. As long as she still cooked for the family, why should she care? They had been so good to her, but in the end they would always be _the _family – not _her _family.

She laughed alone in her bed, remembering the look on poor little Daisy's face when she'd ran down to report what she'd seen. Beryl had nearly dropped the kettle on the ground from shock and told her to wait by Mr. Carson's office until she'd finished with the pies. They'd tell him together. Minutes later, Miss O'Brien stormed down the stairs, scanning the room like a bird of prey.

"Where's Daisy?" she asked, almost hysterically.

Practically fearing for Daisy's life, Beryl responded, "I saw her go out the door just now. Said she was taking a walk."

"Taking a walk…taking a _walk_…" Miss O'Brien muttered through clenched teeth. She slammed the outside door behind her and Beryl crept up the stairs to join Daisy.

* * *

Daisy Mason could not sleep. Everything would have been so much easier if she'd just kept the secret, but Daisy couldn't keep yet another secret. She just couldn't do it again. She knew the news would come spilling out of her at some point - better sooner than later. Once they both knew Daisy had gone to Mrs. Patmore, they practically ignored her. Daisy was terrified, knowing the extent of Miss O'Brien's wrath. She shivered in her small bed, awaiting her own assassination in the dark blackness of the night.

Daisy wasn't really terrified of that. What terrified her was the realization that Lady Grantham and Miss O'Brien were women. They were women with human bodies who felt things deep inside, who needed to be touched and loved, who giggled and cried just like everyone else. Daisy pulled her pillow over her head, drowning in the fear that she might one day become Miss O'Brien – mistaken by the young for a lifeless, heartless, sexless, malicious shadow.

Her thoughts jumped to what she'd seen them doing. She hadn't even known two women could actually do _that_. In some ways, she didn't even know _anyone _could do exactly what she'd witnessed. Daisy felt a strange excitement grow in her lower half, timidly imagining herself with Alfred in that bed instead...


	3. Chapter 3

_This chapter is smutty (thanks a lot, Jimmy), so beware! xoxo, Morgana_

**Chapter 3**

Alfred Nugent awoke in the middle of the night. He'd dreamt that he'd been sacked, and Ivy and Daisy were sniggering at him as he stumbled out the door trying to catch as Mr. Carson threw his belongings at him piece by piece. Alfred was livid. How could she do this to him? She knew how much this job meant to him, and she'd destroyed their family reputation at Downton past repair. No doubt, he'd be out of a job soon. He stared at the ceiling, feeling the anxiety of it tear his stomach to shreds. He'd always known there was something off with her. Mum _had_ said that Aunt Sarah had never wanted to marry, and now he knew why. It was disgusting and infuriating. He never wanted to see her again.

* * *

Jimmy Kent awoke in the middle of the night. He'd been tossing and turning all this time, nothing but lewd thoughts on his mind. What were they doing when Daisy found them? He couldn't get an answer out of her, despite all his probing. His imagination ran wild as he pictured the countess in all manners of enticing positions. First, she was on all fours moaning desperately with her skirts hiked up around her hips, her face shoved into the bed as the lady's maid fucked her from behind. Then, she was pushed up against the wall, O'Brien sucking on her neck and forcefully tearing off her dress, buttons flying everywhere and the pearls from her necklace bouncing every which way. Then, she was stark naked and whimpering in the lady's maid's lap, facing away from O'Brien as the lady's maid covered her mouth with one hand and fucked her with the other. Bloody hell, he'd always thought Lady Grantham was an attractive woman, but he'd never let himself take it this far. And then there was Miss O'Brien, who he'd never really thought of like this before. He'd be lying to himself if he didn't acknowledge that he took at least one second to envisage every woman he met with her clothes off, but the first time he'd met O'Brien, it had definitely been no longer than a second.

He turned on his side, quietly stroking his hardened length, trying to think of Daisy and Ivy doing all those things together and with him. Now, those scenes were much more _normal_ for a lad like himself to imagine. He closed his eyes and concentrated, but felt nothing. He couldn't let himself return to the forbidden realm of the two older women, because he knew something else entirely more forbidden would seep in. He experienced a brief flash of memory at the thought of Thomas' lips on his, the warm weight of Thomas' body on his, and he crashed over the edge, silencing his groan in his pillow. He cursed himself for letting it happen again.

* * *

Thomas Barrow awoke in the middle of the night. He turned onto his stomach and stared up at the ticking clock on the wall. He'd always known she preferred women. He felt smug about that. The teasing and probing about a boyfriend was just meant to get a rise of her and nothing more. With all she'd put him through in the past months, she deserved every moment of discomfort he could give. Part of him was jealous of her for getting away with the affair for so long and then for being able to freely leave Downton in chaos and steal away with the bloody countess of Grantham. She did what she wanted and she got what she wanted every time.

More than anything, Thomas was hurt. He couldn't help but feel saddened and betrayed that she'd never outright told him. He'd told her nearly everything, and she just stood there silently every day. She was smarter than he was, and he knew it. If he could have kept it inside too, he would've – always better to give the enemy less to work with. Nonetheless, he wished she'd told him. She was just like him. He wistfully thought of all they could have shared, all the honesty that could have set his mind at ease, made him feel less alone. As much as he despised her, he would miss her.

* * *

Ivy Stuart awoke in the middle of the night. As she tried to descend back into her world of dreams, she thought of Miss O'Brien and Lady Grantham. If they really did love each other, did they do the things that lovers did? Did they whisper sweet things in one another's ears, hold hands, shower one another with soft kisses, lie together in a warm embrace, drop light butterfly kisses onto one another's cheeks, stare longingly into each other's eyes? Did they go on afternoon picnics, give gifts to each other, sing little love songs, write sentimental poems, dance together? Would they get married if they could? If they could, which one would get down on one knee with a ring?

Ivy should have cared more about Alfred or Jimmy or anyone. Jimmy was the less boring of the two, but she knew it was only the danger and newness of it that she liked. That would wear off eventually. All this gave her a new perspective. Maybe it was okay to feel the way she did about a married woman. She smiled as she drifted off, imagining herself in Anna's arms, threading her fingers through the maid's bright golden hair and swaying with her in time to far-off, beautiful music.

* * *

Anna Bates awoke in the middle of the night. John Bates immediately opened his own eyes, so attuned to his wife's sleeping patterns that he knew something was wrong. He shuffled toward her in bed, rubbing her back and whispering,

"Everything all right, my love?"

"I hate her." Anna said with quiet resentment. "That wretched woman always has to ruin everything. I've never truly hated someone before, but I think I hate her."

"Why?"

"Why?" she raised her voice more. "The family is devastated. I've never seen Lady Mary so downtrodden."

"And what about her Ladyship?"

Anna did not understand his levelheaded questioning. Didn't he feel the same? "What about her? I don't much care for her now either."

"Anna," he said hesitantly. "I've never cared for Miss O'Brien either, but I don't hate her, and I don't know that you should either."

"What are you saying?" She rolled around toward him incredulously, searching his eyes for an answer.

"In this case, what she did…I don't think she meant to hurt anyone."

"Of course she did! She's horrible!"

"Just imagine" he proposed, "what it would feel like to you if you loved someone so dearly, but couldn't ever be with him because everyone else told you it was wrong. Don't you think you might do a similar thing?"

"No," she huffed, turning around again. "I wouldn't commit adultery."

He murmured in her ear, "I'm not pardoning adultery, but I understand why she's done this. I couldn't begin to imagine one day without you, and I'd do almost anything to stay by your side."

Anna swatted at him playfully, eventually grabbing hold of his hand. They drifted slowly into slumber, fingers intertwined and hearts overflowing with love.

* * *

Joseph Molesley awoke in the middle of the night. It would be nice to drink some water right now, he thought. He fell asleep again.


	4. Chapter 4

_And now we come to the last chapter before we get to hear from Corah again (and our friend, Rosamund...)! xoxo, Morgana_

**Chapter 4**

Mary and Matthew Crawley rose at dawn.

"My face must be hideously swollen," Mary remarked hoarsely, throwing her arm over her head. She'd cried as much as her weary body could bear, and she'd argued and yelled much more than any proper lady should. Her entire world had been twisted upside down within the span of one day. She had no energy left in her now. Once the shock had worn off, the heavy reality set in.

Matthew gently pulled her hand away from her face and smiled. "Don't be ridiculous. You look beautiful, as always." He sat up in bed next to her and leaned in, resting his head on her shoulder and whispering, "I suppose we must accept the things we cannot change."

"What now?" she asked in a frail, hollow voice.

"Have you had a talk with your mother yet?"

Mary laughed bitterly. "You mean you don't count all of our shouting yesterday and last night? I thought Papa's head was going to explode."

"I don't," He said softly. "I'm referring to a real discussion. If she's been so decisive about it, perhaps it would be worthwhile to listen to the full story before she leaves. After all," he grinned impishly, "I'm ever so curious as to what your mother sees in that odious woman."

"I suppose O'Brien is practically family now," she said resentfully.

"The _evil _stepmother…" Matthew nuzzled Mary's neck and she rolled her eyes.

Mary knew deep down that this horrific turn of events would not be her undoing, for she had someone to joke with, someone to confide in, someone who would grasp her hand firmly as he did now and promise her that everything would turn out all right.

* * *

Edith Crawley rose at dawn. She crept over to the other side of the room and drew the curtains wide open, viewing the dewy splendor of the morning from the window seat. At first, she had been upset like her father and sister. Now, she could not be more overjoyed for her mother. One thought echoed again and again through her mind, and she felt that it set her free. _Sybil would be proud of her_.

It was of course considered ungodly and unnatural, but Edith did not see how it could be wrong for her mother to be happy again. Edith had seen a brilliant light shine within her mother the moment O'Brien had joined her yesterday to explain themselves to Papa. It had been a dark and heated quarrel, but Edith could see now that her mother was finally happy. If she truly loved O'Brien and they were truly motivated to go out into the world to start a new life, how could Edith do anything but support them?

Her loyalty to Downton - or to God and Country and propriety, for that matter - had never rivaled that of her sister. In fact, Edith had felt like an outsider to this family her entire life. She supposed it was why she had never despised O'Brien in the same way that everyone else had, for O'Brien lived a solitary life as well.

They had a special bond, Edith and O'Brien. When Edith was a girl, O'Brien would sneak her peppermint treats from the kitchen and bring her new hair ribbons from the village. The young Edith had always relished in knowing that someone thought of her from time to time. Edith could recall one day when she had asked O'Brien if she wanted to have children of her own. The lady's maid had tilted her head to one side through the mirror and replied sadly,

"I don't get on well with most children."

Edith had grown into a self-centered young woman, and she'd forgotten to appreciate O'Brien's kind gestures – this much she could recognize in her slightly older age. Perhaps this would be a new start for them all. She wouldn't mind accepting her mother's invitation to visit them in London.

* * *

Tom Branson rose at dawn. He tried to read a bit to take his mind off of everything, but in actuality, there was little troubling him. He was unapologetically un-opinionated. The Crawleys had been so good to him since Sybil's passing, and he didn't want to see them suffer. Ultimately, it was a question of freedom. Lady Grantham hadn't been given much of a choice as to whether or not she wanted to become a countess. She was and should be free to do what she wanted, even if that meant running away with a particularly unpleasant woman. He wouldn't stand in their way.

* * *

Robert Crawley rose at dawn. Noticing at last the cold emptiness of his large bed, he stood up and paced the room. After an unfathomably painful day and night, he finally admitted to himself what he had known all along – this wasn't entirely Cora's fault. He had driven her away. It made him sick to think about it, but it was true. How could he have expected her to wait patiently while he toyed with marital infidelity? Good God, he could trace it back to that exact moment – O'Brien seated devotedly by her side all throughout the night, providing endless cold compresses, gripping her limp hands, holding her hair while she vomited. All the while he had been too busy chasing a housemaid.

Despite his fear and anger, he knew that what O'Brien had shown was real love. She had shown the kind of love that _he_ should have been able to find in himself. Maybe she really _was_ what Cora needed. In the same way that he'd needed the adoration of Jane's trusting eyes and soft spirit, perhaps Cora needed O'Brien's attention and loyalty. There was more to it though, he knew, for they had been found making love. He couldn't help but wonder if there was something Cora had wanted from him physically, something he had not been able to give her. He felt his stomach lurch uneasily at the idea that the lady's maid might know things about Cora's body and desires that he could have never understood. He felt utterly helpless.

He would miss her twinkling laugh, her shining blue eyes, her kittenish smile, her sweet words, the fleeting scent of her perfume. He knew that he would never stop pining for the kindness and love that she had so selflessly given to him for so many years of her life. He had not deserved one second of it.

In the end, it came down to Downton. That is what devastated him most, and that is what had preoccupied him all night. For the first time, he was at a complete loss. The only home he had ever known was broken, and he did not see how it could be mended.

* * *

Violet Crawley rose at dawn. She had slept soundly. She rang for her maid. She would need to be dressed and ready for the day sooner than usual. She had work to do – yet another scandal to abate. She huffed to herself, thinking that she had been right from the start. Robert should have thought twice before marrying an American.

* * *

Isobel Crawley rose at dawn. She had not been to dine at Downton the night before, so she had been able to retire early in the evening. It was a lovely, crisp day outside. She decided to take a brisk walk.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Rosamund Painswick had not expected Cora to exit the car with damp eyes. She had certainly expected her to be tired upon arrival, but she thought all her tears would have been cried by now.

Rosamund did not offer her any comforting words, merely greeting them as if everything were perfectly fine. Cora followed suit. They both knew it was better this way. Cora did not need to find solace in Rosamund. O'Brien greeted Rosamund with an understanding nod, thanking her for her temporary hospitality and for helping them to find a home of their own. Rosamund waved her hand dismissively and joked about delighting in a good bit of drama now and then. She requested that their luggage be brought up and told them to join her for supper when they were ready.

As she walked inside ahead of them, she could see out of the corner of her vision O'Brien stopping to wipe Cora's eyes with a handkerchief and push stray strands of hair behind Cora's ears. Rosamund smiled to herself, knowing that this was why she needn't worry about Cora.

She sat alone in her parlor, staring out at the gray sky and wondering what they would do now. Granted, they had a plan, and it was a good one. O'Brien was the best seamstress Rosamund knew of, and Cora would learn. It would take time for their business to grow, but she had no doubt that it would grow. She pushed aside all thoughts of her brother. She would remain both a loyal sister and friend, and Robert and Cora knew that. After all, it wasn't his fault that his wife had taken a mistress. In fact, it had nothing to do with him. It was time for him to realize that.

Rosamund only hoped that her own secrets would remain safe from the expert, prying eyes of Sarah O'Brien - at least for the time being. She'd strictly but grudgingly told Vera not to visit over the next two days, which had earned her a few deliciously sharp swear words in reply. Rosamund had figured out _their _secret long ago, but she was not to be outdone.

* * *

Sarah O'Brien had not expected Cora to turn from the window with dry eyes and a brilliant smile.

Cora had maintained her determined, straightforward gaze throughout the train ride, a bright fire glowing in her expression that made Sarah start to quiver with excitement. Cora Crawley was finally out in full force in a dangerously wonderful and uninhibited way - which is why Sarah had been taken by surprise when Cora had started to cry in London.

As soon as the door to the car had closed, Cora had erupted into a fit of heavy sobs, burying her face in the black fabric of Sarah's dress and tightly wrapping her arms around her. Sarah had looked down at Cora in confusion and tried to calm her by stroking her hair and holding her there until they'd arrived in Belgravia. She'd dropped little kisses onto Cora's forehead every few minutes, whispering,

"I know."

She did know. Leaving Downton hadn't been Sarah's idea. None of it had been her idea. Cora had arranged it, Cora had insisted on it, and Cora had warned Sarah not to be deterred by her sadness. It didn't matter what anyone else thought; Cora had sworn that she wanted to be with Sarah more than anything.

Sarah had started to unpack their things while Cora aimlessly wandered over toward the window. Cora had stood there in silence, leaning on the windowsill and turning her back to her lady's maid. Sarah knew better than to bother her – she'd simply worked quietly, giving Cora time to let it sink in.

Now here Cora was moving toward Sarah, whose knees went weak at the sight of her delicate lips puckered into a little grin and her ocean blue eyes boring into her. Cora reached out to hold her hand, and Sarah felt an electric current course through her at the contact. They stood there together for long minutes, breathing calmly, eyes never straying from one another, warm hands clasped firmly together, and hearts beating wildly in fear and excitement. The sun started to set around them, and they watched as the little lines of orange light glimmered through the window and across one another's cheeks.

* * *

Cora Crawley had not expected Sarah to stop her at the door to their new home. She had suddenly grabbed Cora's shoulder, pulling her backwards so that she had to catch her hat before it fell off. Cora couldn't help but like it when O'Brien was a bit forceful with her touch. Cora turned to her, puzzled.

"I feel like I should be carrying you over the threshold," Sarah said, only partly in jest. "Or something like that."

Cora replied in a sprightly, yet bewildered tone, "Why me? What's to stop me from carrying _you_?"

Sarah laughed loudly and huskily. "You couldn't carry me!"

"Sure I can!" Cora grinned down at her lady's maid, wanting to kiss her full, parted lips, and impatient to feel her moan into her mouth in pleasure, like she had so many times before.

Cora indignantly moved to lift her, but Sarah ducked out from under her arms before she could even try.

"Hey!" Cora giggled and chased her inside, and it wasn't until they collapsed into their small bed that Cora was finally able to get her hands on Sarah. The lady and her lover thought of no one else until morning light.

_That's it! Hope you enjoyed it! _

_xoxo, Morgana_


End file.
